Believe in Him
by pemberlee
Summary: Why would anyone hate the sweet and gentle Jamie Sullivan? Read and find out. Follows Landon after med school.


When love beckons to you follow him,  
Though his ways are hard and steep.  
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,  
Though the sword hidden among his pinions  
May wound you.  
And when he speaks to you believe in him,  
Though his voice may shatter your dreams  
As the north wind lays waste the garden.  
For even as love crowns you  
so shall he crucify you.  
Even as he is for your growth  
So is he for your pruning.

_The Prophet_ by Gibran Khalil Gibran

**Believe in Him**

**Chapter 1: At the Apartment**

I walked through the door of my apartment after my shift at the hospital, only to be greeted by my sister and roommate Becky in a satin bathrobe and high heels. Becky is the only person I know who wears high heels for pleasure. I never wear them at all if I can help it, partly because I'm so tall that with heels I tower over most of humanity, but also because they are damn uncomfortable to walk in.

"Hey, how was work?" asked Becky, looking up from a magazine.

"Fine," I said.

"OK, what's bothering you?" Sometimes I hated the way Becky could always tell how I felt.

"Jamie Sullivan," I answered.

"God, not this again," said Becky, throwing the magazine to the floor.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I know you hate the bitch."

"I don't hate her; I've never even met her. And she isn't a bitch."

"C'mon, hon, it's me. You can be honest," said Becky.

"Well, maybe I do hate her, but she's not a bitch."

"That makes it worse."

"I know!" I said, collapsing next to her on the couch, "Because I still hate her and she still makes me miserable, but now I'm the bitch for hating this dead saint."

I sighed and thought about the torment that was Jaimie Sullivan. Like I said, I had never met the girl, but I knew all about her. I'd seen the pictures and I'd heard the stories. She had the voice of an angel and the most beautiful brown eyes you'd ever seen. She tutored underprivileged children, loved the stars, and believed in God without question. She bravely battled cancer and found true love, all before she died of leukemia at the age of eighteen.

How I envied her. That was crazy; envying a girl who died so young, but it was the truth. I wished I could be as good as her, as strong as her, as beautiful as her. Because then maybe he would love me as much as he loved, no LOVES, her.

Who was _he_ you may ask? He was Landon Carter, another resident at the hospital where I worked. I'd met him in medical school and now we were both on our way to becoming oncologists at one of the best cancer research hospitals in the country, John Hopkins.

We'd made it there together, studying our asses off at med school, getting the best professors to write our recommendations, and spending every extra minute volunteering in the cancer ward.

I could still remember the night I realized there would never be any guy for me but Landon. We had just finished finals at the end of our second year of med school and to celebrate a bunch of us went to a jazz club just off campus.

All I wanted to do was get on that dance floor and release some of the pent up energy that had built up during the last two weeks of tests. After dancing with a bunch of other guys, I started to dance with Landon, who was surprisingly good.

"Hey, where'd you get moves like that?" I asked when he spun me around.

His face clouded over and I said, "Are you all right?"

"No," he said quietly.

"Wanna get some fresh air?" I offered because he really did look sick, with his face all pale and his hands shaking. I figured that finals had taken more of a toll than he'd expected.

We were the only ones on the little balcony outside the club. Landon leaned against the railing and asked suddenly, "Have you ever been in love, Meg?"

"I don't think so," I said. "I mean, there have been guys I thought I was in love with, but afterward I always decided they weren't anything special, you know?"

"Yeah, like Ben," he said.

I smiled. Ah, Ben. Landon had not liked Ben, my last boyfriend, who I had broken up with after he got arrested for armed robbery on Valentine's Day. In his defense, Ben had claimed that he was going to give me one of the rings from the jewelry store he held up, but this was not enough to persuade me to wait ten to twenty years for him.

"What about you?" I asked. "Ever been in love? Or have you always been a monk?"

I was teasing him of course. "The Monk" was what the guys in our class had nicknamed Landon because he never hit on girls when we went out drinking, even though he got plenty of stares with his good looks and sweet smile. At first I'd thought he was gay, but then I went to see the latest Angelina Jolie movie with him and he drooled the entire time, like every other guy in the audience. Landon definitely appreciated the female form; he just didn't appreciate any of the female forms who went to our school. I didn't understand it, but I accepted it.

"I've been in love," he said. "Once."

"I'm not even sure I know what love means," I said.

There was a pause and then Landon spoke softly, "Love is always patient and kind; it is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited...It is never rude or selfish It does not take offense, and it is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people's sins but delights in truth. It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes."

I watched him silently while he said this and thought that I had never seen anything more beautiful. His dark eyes were bright and his strong jaw oddly vulnerable in the moonlight. In that moment I knew I would never love anyone else.

I would have kissed him then, but he turned to me and asked, "Can I tell you about Jamie?"

I didn't know who Jamie was yet, but already I hated her for ruining this perfect moment when I had fallen in love. He told me all about her there on the balcony, how she came into his life by accident, how she made him want to be a better man, how they had gotten married, how he had cried when he lost her.

I heard more about Jamie over the next three years, until it got to the point where I felt like I knew her. He didn't talk about her to most people, just me. He said I understood. Which I did, unfortunately, having lost my mom to breast cancer when I was eleven.

She had been sick for two years, so it wasn't a surprise when she died, but that didn't make it any easier. At her funeral I resolved to become an oncologist and specialize in breast cancer treatment. I still thought about her sometimes and I secretly hoped that my dad never remarried, even though it had been sixteen years since Mom died. Naturally, I felt like a total hypocrite for wanting Landon to forget Jamie after only nine.

My thoughts were interrupted when Becky threw a pillow at me and said, "God, you need a drink. Get dressed, we're going out."

When Becky decided we were going out, it was pointless to argue, no matter how exhausted I was. I was two years older than her, but she was the one who took care of me, since I had no time as a resident to take care of myself. She cleaned our apartment, did our laundry, and made me eat right, so I felt like going out with her was the least I could do to show some gratitude. Plus, I really did need that drink.


End file.
